Saturday 21 June 2008

That Girl

What kind of a girl runs out
breathless, shoeless out of a bar
just to answer that one call
that happens every night (for a week now)
always close to midnight

What kind of a girl uses
all her money (okay, some of it)
on her mobile phone
checking messages online with it
every couple of hours - at times every 15 minutes

What kind of girl whose heart
feels like it's on hot pins and needles
with every mention of another
in Russia, Hong Kong, Singapore -
it didn't matter

What kind of a girl buys
flowers and leaves notes strewn
hidden in the house
to remind him of her presence
even if it's only the lingering traces
of her eyes on his pillow

What kind of a girl lies
in her bed with mascara
making unhappy tracks down her freckled skin
pressed up tight against her bolster
late, oh so late

She's the kind of girl
who's in love with you
She always has been
She is waiting
for you.

And that girl?
She is me.

Petal P. Rose

Saturday 14 June 2008

Sshhhh......

It is there, can you hear it?

No, I am not imagining it - go ahead

Strain your ears,

hear me out, please!

the sound of silence

trickles and drips yellow blood

it is unabashed and unshelled

in this silence it exists

louder than any sound that you have ever heard

silent yet powerful.

Petal P. Rose

Saturday 7 June 2008

What better way to commemorate the Great Singapore Sale by going shopping?

So I got paid and I went shopping. Shopping for me is never planned and I am not a girlie shopper. Translated, that means that I don't take hours mulling over a pair of shoes or that pretty red number sitting on the shelf. I go in there, see something I like, take it off the rack/shelf, try it on if I have to (which by the way, I hate), if it flatters, buy it, otherwise, dump it. I don't think, "Oh, if I just lose a bit here and another bit there....I can fit it................someday in the near future..." Girls, don't waste your brain space thinking that. By the time that "someday" happens, you are outdated.

Cut the long short, I got myself: 1 dress, 1 skirt, 1 cardi-ish top, 1 pair of shoes, 4 lacey numbers and some toiletries. Grand total: S$293.43. That is not cheap - not when you are supposedly buying sale items!!!

I was looking for bras. Now, whereas I'm not double D big, neither am I a minus A but I am happy with my buddies. I went 'round to the bras section and EVERY SINGLE bra was a padded one! I was going around poking all the bras with my forefinger - "oh, this one's got a nice bounce to it." "nice...feels like the real thing.." - pity about the colours. Why would you lie about size? I mean, you have to take it off in the normal ritual of sex. How would you hide then? Shadow trickery? Okay, even if you blindfold the guy, he's gonna grab you - do you give him cushions to grab on to in place of your breasts? Obviously, this is a national obsession.

This is not the first time where I walk in to look for bras and most of what they have are gel/foam/jello/cushion/water-filled bras. There are normal, well-adjusted and confident ladies out there who are happy with their buddies and normal, lacey sexy UNPADDED/UNSTUFFED would suffice. I don't want to wear a pair of stuffed toys on my chest, thank you very much, I prefer my own breasts.

I do wonder, though, how it would be brought out in public display. A national obsession with the declining birth rate has manisfested itself in Clarke Quay with major dick installations. When a girl stubbles out drunk and falls on her back, she opens her eyes, sees the giant dicks, she must be thinking, "I want cock right now." I think we must be fair to the blokes. Are we going to add breasts to that? When a bloke stubbles out drunk and falls on his back, he opens his eyes, sees the giant breasts, he thinks, "I want breasts right now."

They turn their heads, over glazed, bleary eyes, across the cobbled stones of Clarke Quay, their eyes meet. They got onto their feet (not an easy feat) and stumbled unsteadily towards each other. Their mouths, open greedily like chicks to a mother, hers smudged dark lavender, his stinking of the chicken rice dinner. She wanted cock and he wanted breasts. He saw that hers was ample. He grabs her. PPPPpppffffffffffftttttttttttt.....

Truly yours,

Petal P. Rose